


Day 144

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [144]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Relationships: Tomwise/OC
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [144]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257





	Day 144

Tomwise’s stomach was tying itself in knots as he approached the, rather unassuming, stone house. It probably wasn’t the best idea for him to be here, but it was a matter of professional pride for him to protect his business. The Carta were a greedy group of bastards but they usually stuck to their own territory, cheating the merchant’s guild, smuggling lyrium, and fixing sporting events. They had their own poisoners but they had not tried to carve out territory for themselves in Kirkwall, peace had been kept with the Coterie by operating in different spheres.

Now it seemed that a Carta poisoner was slowly biting off herself a larger piece of the market. Either the dwarves were making a move into new territory, or she was trying to make a little money on the side. Tomwise was here to find out which it was so he could figure out how best to preserve his business, and his life.

He gave the door three sharp raps and waited patiently. After a short pause a slot opened up at dwarf head height, which was stomach level for Tomwise. He crouched down, already feeling like he had lost some sort of power game.

“Do you have an appointment?”

All Tomwise could see were a pair of vibrant brown eyes surrounded by shadow.

“I’m looking for Feja,” he said.

“Under what name is the appointment?”

“Are you Feja?” he asked the eyes. The slot slammed shut and his further knocking was met with silence. He waited around for a moment trying to think of a way to get himself inside without getting knifed or caught in a trap. Just as he was turning to geo he saw a young dwarf woman practically sleepwalking down the path. She nearly bumped into him and made only a halfhearted apology as she fumbled for a key to the door Tomwise had been trying to get in. 

“Are you Feja?” he asked. She glared at him and made a negative sounding grunt before opening the door.

“Feja there’s an elf here looking for you,” she called out. She didn’t even bother to close the door behind her and Tomwise managed to get his foot in the door before it swung closed.

“I don’t want to see-” a slightly older dwarf walked into the entryway, clearly the owner of the brown eyes. She had jet black hair that looked like parts of it had been signed into an asymmetrical mess. When she saw that Tomwise was halfway through the door she charged at him, daggers appearing from somewhere under her apron.

Tomwise produced daggers of his own. When she came to a stop he had a knife pointing at her throat and she had one pointing at a place substantially lower on him. They stayed like that in a moment of tension. The younger dwarf had a throwing knife ready but she looked like she would just have gladly collapsed asleep in a bead.

“What are you doing in my house?” demande the brown eyed dwarf, Feja he assumed.

“Why are you stealing my clients?” he demanded back.

“So are we fighting or can I go take a nap?” the younger dwarf asked. Tomwise and Feja shared a look and sheathed their daggers in unison.

“We,” Feja said looking pointedly at the younger dwarf, “are going to have a talk about you letting strange men into our home.”

“But it’s fine when you do it?” she said rolling her eyes. 

“Luka!” Feja snapped and the younger dwarf hurried into another room. Tomwise caught the hint of a flush on Feja’s cheeks as she led him deeper into the house. “Please ignore my sister,” she said. “She had no manners whatsoever. Beer?” Feja pointed to a barrel mounted on a wall.

“Not a chance,” Tomwise laughed. Feja shrugged and poured a mug for herself.

“What’s this about my stealing your clients,” she asked, taking a seat. Tomwise remained standing. One would expect that literally looking down at someone would give you a sense of power but Feja looked so relaxed with her beer that he just felt silly standing over her. Still he would have felt even more foolish if he changed his mind about sitting.

“Three-Socks-Jim for one,” Tomwise explained. “Several others I suspect. I know you’re new on the scene but we have rules for how we do things.”

“Who’s we?”

“What passes for the poisoner’s guil in Kirkwall,” said Tomwise. “We maybe do a bit of promoting but we don’t go after someone else’s long-term clients. I would be happy to meet with Rhatigan to explain how we operate in this business.” It was a bluff. Tomwise would never set foot in the same room as that mad dwarf if he could help it, but he was betting he didn’t know Feja was working a side business. She had been very secretive, even for one of their professions. Tomwise was rewarded when Feja coughed and sputtered out her mouthful of beer. A bit even came out her nose and she hastily wiped it with a handkerchief. 

“I’ll tell you what,” she said when she had recovered. “What say you and I have a little wager. If you win I’ll back off and give you back your clients. If I win I keep the clients I have already and you slink off and stop bothering me.”

“So if I win I get what was already mine but if you win you get my clients?” Tomwise asked.

“Fine,” Feja said. “If you win I’ll put in a good word for you with Rhatigan, see if he’ll make you the official outside poisoner for the Carta”

Now there was something Tomwise wanted. A new, untapped market was much more valuable than the few clients Feja has poached. 

“What’s the wager?” he asked.

“Felandaris,” Feja declared. “No one seems to have any or know where to find it, but the Veil is so abysmally thin in Kirkwall that there must be loads somewhere. Whoever secured a local source first wins, but they have to share it with the other as proof of success. No matter what, we both win.”

That was too hard a deal for Tomwide to pass up. He offered his hand to Feja, it has the rough calluses of a seasoned alchemist.

“Deal,” he said.


End file.
